Sunday, October 12, 2008

Life’s Little Details

I think that I was a pretty good dad. For children I have two grown sons who are both smart and strong, well respected by all, semi-well-adjusted and well into the good-faith-brackets of happiness. They were a joy to raise. I don’t know how I would have faired if faced with greater challenges. I’m not the strongest trooper in the field.

A great and respected friend of mine had a son who was born with an impressive laundry list of physical difficulties and who died just a little past twenty years old. My friend’s response to this challenge was heroic, and he was the greatest dad imaginable for this peaceful and loving but seriously handicapped boy. No complaining, only sensitive dedication and good cheer. He and his wonderful wife provided this boy with all of the comfort and happiness that it was humanly possible for them to give. I wonder if I could have done half as much.

It happens sometimes. Life’s little details going wrong. There’s nothing to be done about it except to roll up one’s sleeves and do the best you can. It’s easy for me to say, but it’s true. Just do everything that you can to be cheerful and helpful. And if someone close to you finds themselves in this situation, well, you might want to try to help them with their challenge, if you can see your way clear to do so, and make their burden a little lighter. They, and their needy child, will love you for it.

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About Me

Mr. C is: a reformed lawyer; a religious atheist; a useful "Handy Man;" an amateur social scientist; a beloved teacher; a well liked husband and father; Ambassador Emeritus from, and to, Planet X; a freelance professor; taxi driver to the stars (Joe DiMaggio and Ronald McDonald, both out of uniform); an excellent fire fighter; an enthusiastic but untalented musician; an experienced counselor; a top-notch disk jockey; an all around get-along-guy; a cunning linguist; a would-be lifestyle victim; a Masonic wannabe; a frequent reader; Professor Irwin Corey's Ph.D. adviser; an accomplished driver and motorcyclist; a famous rockologist; a reliable but indifferent bullshit detective; a poor speller; a proud United States Navy veteran (honorably discharged, barely); the Ayatollah of Ass-o-Hola; a drug legend; a Returned Peace Corps volunteer (Thailand); a generally charming man; nationally and internationally known from coast to coast; a legend in his own mind; a cultural-anthropological critic-at-large; an avenging angel who coolly bides his time; Soul Brother number 37; and a friend to the poor.